


Grey

by lanri



Series: Unseen [27]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, BDaBR, Blindness, Gen, Unseen 'verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 15:41:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2234442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanri/pseuds/lanri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Funny thing about black and white. You mix it together and you get grey. And it doesn't matter how much white you try and put back in, you're never gonna get anything but grey.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grey

There was no such thing as an easy job. Bela had learned that early in the business, and wasn’t about to un-learn it any time soon.

Still, to be interrupted by a blind kid and his brother—their father had owned the storage unit, but really— . . . She narrowed her eyes. The two Winchesters were enjoying their lunch, courtesy of one rabbit’s foot. It was about time Bela took back what was hers.

“Need a refill?” Bela leaned over suggestively, drawing the gaze of the one with short hair.

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he leered. Bela flicked a glance over to the other brother while the elder (definitely older, it was written all over him) was distracted by her assets, and found the guy annoyingly placid, hands in his pockets. It should’ve been easier to steal from a blind guy, but the kid was not distracted, and had kept his hand in his pocket.

Smoothly, Bela managed to tip over the coffee into the older one’s lap. Just because the younger one had good luck, didn’t mean the elder did.

He cursed, she apologized profusely, and when the younger tried to help, Bela snagged the rabbit’s foot. Yeah, she was smooth.

Bela sauntered off, dropping the wig in a nearby dumpster as soon as she left the building, tucking the rabbit’s foot into her apron without touching it.

Turned out she should’ve done a more thorough background check on the two hunters. The two weren’t quite as mindless as she had thought.

“Really, a bit overdramatic, much?” Bela kept her hands in view of the man. No need to get shot.

“Well, seeing as you stole from us and could cause my baby brother’s death, yeah, I don’t think I’m being overdramatic at all,” he sarcastically replied. Bela hid her slight surprise. Sure, she knew that as soon as you lost the rabbit’s foot luck turned bad, but she hadn’t expected it to be as powerful as causing death. Her client was an idiot for wanting the foot.

“So you expect me to hand it over and go on my merry way? I’m being paid one point five-million dollars for this job, it isn’t bloody pocket change, dear,” Bela told him. She was a mercenary, not a soft heart. If she didn’t finish this job, it was her head on a platter.

“Good thing it’s not up to you. It’s up to this bullet.” Winchester smiled tightly.

“You’re not a killer,” Bela said, nonchalant.

“I am when my brother’s life is at stake, sweetheart.”

There was a darkness in Winchester’s eyes, and Bela let him swipe the rabbit’s foot. Not without trying to shoot him, but he had the luck, and Bela didn’t.

But let it never be said that Bela Talbot gave up without trying.

* * *

“You should have been keeping watch,” she admonished. She had done her research, and now felt fully prepared and confident in her superior position.

“We only have one set of eyes, and one of us needed eyes to do the ritual,” Sam said drily.

“True.” Bela kept her gun aimed directly at him, knowing what that would do to Dean.

“Please. You know what this rabbit's foot could cause. It’s a curse, not a gift,” the younger Winchester said earnestly. It was almost cute. Okay, if Bela was honest, it was pretty cute. Normally she went for the boys in leather jackets—aka, Dean—but there was something appealing about the spark of naïveté in the younger.

Dean spouted off something about being able to read Bela—as if—and tried to appeal to Bela’s good nature. Pah.

Bela was tempted to prove him wrong and shoot the younger brother out of spite for the sheer cockiness of Dean. But, well, apparently she did have a soft spot, and it was in the shape of two big doe eyes that were white, but emotion-filled all the same. Not to mention that his face was bruised and battered. Probably from however long it took Dean to get from their crummy motel to her apartment and back again.

“Alright, Winchester, I’ll let it go this time.” Bela lowered her gun, casually leaning against the gravestone where a jacket had several lottery tickets sticking out of the pocket. “And, handsome, in case you’re interested—“ Bela hesitated, and then rattled off her number.

Dean smirked and opened his mouth before Bela, amused, cut him off with a “not you, dear. Cheers, Sam.”

Despite the fact that she would now have to keep her client off her back with some clever evasions and groveling, Bela took satisfaction from the lottery tickets in her pocket, the dumbfounded look on Dean Winchester’s face, and the surprise on Sam Winchester’s.

* * *

Bela hadn’t particularly expected to get a call from Sam. Hunters didn’t have lifestyles that allowed them to have long relationships, and the guy had softie written all over him, in contrast to the one-night-stand style of Dean.

Apparently, she was wrong. “Bela, this is Sam Winchester.”

“I see.” Bela wasn’t far from the town she had left the two brothers in.

“I was wondering if we could talk?”

Euphemism or not, Bela was daring enough to try it.

She was greeted at the door by Dean. “You hurt him, I will kill you,” he said cheerfully. And left.

“I know he just gave you the impression that this is some kind of weird date or one night stand, but that’s not why I called you,” Sam said clearly. He was sitting by the lurid orange desk of the motel room, and Bela shut the door.

“So why did you call me?” she asked mildly. “Looking for revenge?”

He laughed. “Hardly.” His face lost all humor. “What do you know about demon deals?”

In one second, Bela had smoothly pulled out her pistol and aimed it at Sam. “Why?” she asked tightly. How had he found out? Bela had always tied up any loose ends on her own forays into attempts to break her deal, and none of them were left alive.

“I need to break one. I know you probably don’t like hunters, but from what Bobby Singer told us, you know a lot about the supernatural, probably a lot that we wouldn’t know.”

Bela eyed him suspiciously. It didn’t sound like he was targeting Bela’s deal specifically. Coincidence? She didn’t believe in those, but, well, she dealt in the supernatural. Coincidences could turn into anything. “Are you planning on making a deal to get your eyesight back?” she asked curiously.

Sam made a face. “No. That would be idiotic.”

It clicked. “Is Dean dying of some disease? So you want to trade your soul for him?”

Sam shrugged. “Close enough. I died. He made a deal to get me back. I would appreciate it if you kept this between the two of us.”

“And you think I could help you because—“

“You have a reputation, Bela Talbot. To have a reputation in the hunting community, you have to be good or crazy. I’m hoping it's the former.”

Bela put away her gun. He didn’t know.

“Wish I could help you, Sam, but if it was a deal with a legitimate demon from hell, then you’re out of luck.”

Sam’s face fell. “Oh.”

“If it helps, I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

“Thanks.”

“So, sex isn’t on the menu for tonight?”

Sam blushed bright red. “I’m sorry, I’m just . . . I don’t. Normally. I mean, I don’t really know you, and I—“

“It’s fine, no worries.” Bela took pity on him. “Just checking. Lifestyle you lead, I figured you might jump at the chance.”

Sam frowned. “And why would you pick me instead of my brother?”

“Not that I don’t admire confidence, but your brother’s a bit too full of himself for my taste.” Bela sat down comfortably on the bed, now that she was secure in the knowledge that they would just be talking.

Sam’s smile was small and fond. “Yeah, well, he does that to cover up his insecurities.”

Bela rolled her eyes. “Well, I won’t be next in the long list of conquests.”

Sam let out a bark of laughter. “Fair enough.” His face took on a knowing look. “And I imagine it would be somewhat desirable to have sex with a guy who can’t see you.”

Bela flinched away from that kernel of truth and laughed uncomfortably. “We can’t all be perfect.”

“I know.” Sam looked perfectly at ease. “It’s freeing. I get it. It’s just too intimate for me. I may not be able to see you, but that makes it more, well, y’know.”

Bela shook her head. “This is one of the strangest conversations I’ve had, and that’s saying something,” she muttered.

Sam tipped his head. “I am curious, though, why you choose the monetary route,” he said after a pause. “Is it plain greed?”

“What else would it be?”

“I get the feeling it’s something more than that.”

“Sometimes things are exactly what they appear to be,” Bela said shortly.

“Alright. Would you mind sticking around for a while? My guess is that my brother’s parked outside, and if you leave too early, well, I won’t hear the end of it for a while.”

Despite herself, Bela laughed. “So, what do you want to do?”

“You play poker?”

Bela finally relaxed. “Yeah. Yeah, I play.”

“Well then. Deal ‘em up.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ten points to anyone who knows the quote without looking it up :D
> 
> Also: I would have killed for Sam to actually have some kind of connection with Bela, but no, Dean is the one who gets all the interesting relationships. *sigh* Thus, this fic.


End file.
